What? A story that’s not about sex?

For those of you that are new to the site or just haven’t read ‘the Lead’, I’m Tamil (Sri Lankan). Why is this relevant?

Well a reader from Canada said that I looked like a tanned white boy so I wanted to clear that up for starters. But it also relates to my upbringing and perhaps, explains why I’ve turned out the way I have.

Actually that’s bollocks, it won’t shed any light on that but a lot of people who know me in real life have suggested I try a piece about my background so y’all can better understand my character. So here goes nothing.

Before I get to the (hopefully) good stuff, in a nutshell; Sri Lanka’s a tiny island below India. The natives are predominantly either Sinhala or Tamil and these are also the country’s two official languages.

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Fearing that if Tamil was spoken at home, we may develop an accent when speaking English, our parents never taught us how to speak the language.

Sad? Perhaps.

Though I have no doubt that if I sounded like Apu from The Simpsons, my life would have been VERY different.

So I for one am grateful to my folks (dad) for making that call. Just FYI ladies, a girl I met in Miami told me I sounded like Hugh Grant. Moving on…

Unfortunately mum had other ideas and we were forcibly enrolled into a Saturday school when I was around six. Her aim? That we’d pick up the language and some understanding about our religion.

Language

In short, this was a fairly amateur operation. After five years at school, I was able to have reasonably fluent conversations in French. But over the same period at Saturday school, I picked up these three sentences:

Now admittedly I wasn’t the best student but what was the deal with this cow?

Only until my teens did I realise that this was related to our religion. You see, my family, like many Tamils are Hindu and the cow is considered to be a sacred animal. So it stands to reason that they’d cover this.

But as a child with no clue, I used to imagine ridiculous scenarios where these sentences may have actually been useful e.g. upon arrival at the airport:

Would you say that Sean can hold a basic conversation in Tamil? “Not even close. And furthermore, I think he may be retarded. As he just sits there looking at pictures of cows laughing to himself.”

Religion

Now I’ve always been suspicious about religion as I figured, so long as you know the difference between right and wrong, that’s all that really matters. Of course my ‘wrong barometer’ has been known to play up on occasion. However I was forced to reassess my principles in ’98.

I’m not sure how it works elsewhere but in the UK, your first major exams are your GCSEs (sat at 16 generally). And at 18, you sit your A-Levels, which are essentially university entrance exams.

There are two years between me and the Surgeon. So in the summer of ’98, exactly a week after he would receive his A-Level results, I would be picking up my GCSE results.

As had become our modus operandi by then, we would only visit the Temple voluntarily if we needed something. So the Surgeon, wanting a helping hand decided to throw his only £2 into the donation box the night before his results came out.

Results day came and went and he bagged 2 As and 2 Bs. Brilliant achievement don’t get me wrong (especially as this was at a time when colouring-in wasn’t on the syllabus like it is now) but I couldn’t help wondering if he’d have received straight As if he’d put £4 into the box.

Fast forward a week. And the night before I collected my results I placed £10 into the box. What did I get? 10 As.

Hmmm. Maybe I was wrong about this religion stuff.

Fast forward two years and it was my turn with A-Levels. Now I left nothing to chance and even adjusted for inflation over the previous two years, so ended up putting £6 into the box (for my three subjects).

Results day – 1 A, 1 B, 1 C

Balls! It is a load of crap after all.

Would you say that Sean clearly understands the principles and philosophies of Hinduism? “Nope. That boy’s going to get reincarnated as toilet roll.”

Language – Take Two

There are three things I’ll say about Tamils with some certainty;

1. Only the Greeks or the Russians can rival them in terms of surname length;

2. These names invariably start with letters toward the end of the alphabet (like mine); and

3. If you go into any petrol station in London at night, the man behind the counter WILL be Tamil. This is relevant as I’m convinced that once a shopkeeper realises I’m not just a regular drunk (with the late night munchies) but a Tamil drunk; this will carry goodwill and I shall leave said store with some freebie or at least a discounted item.

During our final year of school, home-room was assigned alphabetically. Now as fate would have it, both Unit and Poitier were in that class too. So buoyed by their enthusiasm, I decided to give the language thing another go.

Unfortunately I picked up nothing further. But the boys ‘appeared’ to have mastered my name is – en-athe pear.

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My petrol station theory was common knowledge so some years later when the Surgeon, Poitier and I were returning home from a bender we thought we’d test it out.

Poitier: “Don’t worry chaps, I’ve got this one in the bag… END OF THE PIER, POITIER.”

Shopkeeper: “What?!”

The Surgeon: “Quick Sean, use the cow line.”

Me: “Erm… A… cow… eats grass?”

So it turns out that this phrase really is as bloody useless as it sounds. And other than an out-of-date packet of crisps, I have received jack from my brethren.

Before I go, I just wanted to say thanks to New Mumma, who recently nominated me for a blogging award. Though given the title is the ‘Super Sweet Blog’, I’m still trying to figure out if she was taking the piss or not.

Unfortunately I’m unable to openly accept the award as I fear that being associated with such a mushy accolade may harm my chances of becoming a rapper; a project that I am undertaking on the side.

It’s more ‘middle class’ than ‘gangster’ and I don’t yet have a stage name but I still think I might be onto something. Current working titles include:

L.W.A (Lankans with Attitude) – ‘Straight outta Tooting’

MC Spanner – ‘You most certainly CAN touch this’

50 pence – ‘Please make me rich or I’ll start crying’

That is all.

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If you liked this then I suspect you might also enjoy my book. Or not.

Either way, thanks for reading; particularly to those of you who share these stories and/or leave comments.

126 comments on “What? A story that’s not about sex?”

No seriously, thank you Lori. I’m glad you liked it. I was really worried that it might suck (like a novice hooker) but from people’s reactions (both here and real life), it appears to have been well received…

Yes it’s good to mix it up.. The whole SL thing is intriguing to me also… It made me ponder my own background and family origins. I’m Australian obviously, born and bred, but my ancestry is Irish, on both my mum and dad’s sides. My grandmother ( mothers mum) came over as a child.. and the subsequent Catholicism followed her. I guess I have my own story to write about that one day, and I will definitely say it was inspired by your post. I had a giggle at the comment by the lady who said you looked like a tanned white boy.. OZ is full of those! Haha! But, IMHO… And if that really is you in the pic, your a bit cute mate. . : ) does that pic have a story that’s not already written here?

Actually I must thank you also. You have been the biggest contributor of likes and comments to my WordPress experience. I’m not sure how you stumbled across me as I’m a relative newbie.. but I appreciate the interaction either way. So thankyou Sean. : ) x

Well I’m honoured! And I promise to buy your first single or download your first track or whatever it is the crazy kids are doing nowadays😉 ‘Love button’ could be the title of your first track actually…

This disappoints me. Here I am trying to catch up on blog posts and I hit on the ONE post you write that ISN’T about sex? Thanks a lot. Meanwhile you’re right about those surnames. A guy I grew up with was born in SL—his first name was Jagath but his surname was about 3021 letters long. Except for St. Patrick’s Day, when he added an O’ or Mc prefix depending on his whim.

As for your rapper name, I’m torn between LWA and MC Spanner. 50 pence has its merits too, but people might shorten it to 50p, and that would be unfortunate.

My, my, my… This is an honour. I’ve had a like and a comment from THE Madame Weebles. I just need one from Speaker 7 now and I’ll have completed the ‘awesome foursome’ set… Weebles, Speaker 7, Jen & Tonic and Le Clown

Ha. Sorry to disappoint you. Though feel free to check out ANY of the other stories as that’s pretty much all I wrote about before this one.

Thank you joancloned. I’m glad you enjoyed it and really pleased to hear you say that.

Especially as some of the feedback I’ve received (in person) on this post has been along the lines of ‘stick to the hooker stories’ or ‘we want to read about you failing to have sex again not about your childhood!’

I would love to see you without your Superhero mask. Then, the verdict: Who’s hotter? Sean Smithson or the hot Sri Lanken judge from America’s next top model? I wish I could insert a photo of him here…

I stand by the infrequency, you see, I’m not generally abusive – I only suppose you could bring that nature about😉. It occurs to me; I may have yet to meet a man who does not suppose we would make great friends.😛

My landlord for a few years was Sri Lankan. His name was Bala Pathmabaskaran. I only remember it cause I had to write him a cheque for £357 every month. And that’s my comment. I thought you’d want to know.

Cows are important and you need to know these things. Unfortunately they are not get-out-of-jail-free cards (although they should be) but you should be proud of your language abilities. You can speak three phrases of a second language more than most people can😉 Use them as chat-up lines… you never know your luck😉

Hear you loud and clear Cupid; I felt the same when I was there the previous summer… Whilst I obviously understand and accept that a cow is considered to be a sacred animal, I don’t know why that means no one will clear up after them?

I honestly can’t recall the last time I enjoyed a post as much as this … it’s hilarious and really well written. In fact, I’m jealous. I am curious now to see your photo, which I haven’t done (I’m slow to the point of retardation in matters technological). I’ve always dreamed of having dark skin … my skin is so pale it’s virtually translucent, and I cannot tan: I have ghostly white and burnt to a crisp. That’s it. Anyway … thanks for this. It made my day !

I might be in Sydney … I’ve been to Melbourne and loved it. Someone there referred to Sydney as “the Big Smoke,” but I wasn’t sure if they were being sarcastic or sincere (it’s hard to tell with you Aussies).

Vannakam Sean, I had no idea that you were Tamil, I’d assumed you were a regular white guy from the Home Counties lol. I’m half-Mauritian and like you, never really got taught my mother tongue, and only now know a smattering of a few words and phrases.
You would love it here in east London. Thamizh (Tamils) galore!. Visit High Street North in East Ham and you will certainly get my drift…and here’s another useless fact for y’all. There’s a big Tamil community in Mauritius as well.
Nandri (thanks) for this insight into your heritage!

Didnt realise there were Tamils ‘daan salf’. You guys are taking over!!. You learn something new every day.
Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Just make sure that the money is handed over in the car park behind Asda tomorrow and I keep schtum😉
As for the tweet, you’re very welcome.

The cow meme made me laugh so hard!😀
As a Tamil, it’s ok for me to laugh right?
Seriously, did you ever regret not learning it? I’ve got a couple of years at home (before uni) and am regretting not learning it. Especially during those super awkward family/friend get togethers :S

Of course. Laugh away… Though I can’t claim credit for it. I just googled funny cow pictures and that gem came up.

There are like two occasions growing up where I was slightly embarrassed by not knowing what the people around me were saying but that’s about it. And the few Tamil friends I have are almost as bad as me so it’s not really something I think about to be honest.

Plus even though I make out I’m completely clueless, I do actually understand a reasonable amount. I think…

Thank you so much Kimmie; that’s all I hope to do with each of my stories.

When I started the site I thought it would just be stories of embarrassing sexual encounters but I’ve had just as much fun writing about all the other stuff… I’m glad you’re still laughing; regardless of the topic.

I am so glad that this is the first post I read on this Valentine’s Day. Thanks for the laughs.
I am still taking applications for a house-husband if you feel like moving to the US😉
Just kidding. Somewhat.

SS, cows got me into big trouble when I was sixteen. My cousin Deedee, and previous neighbor Kathy, and I met three guys. Kathy was a year older with a car. We drove out and parked beside a cow pasture. While Kathy and her guy made out in the woods across the road, Deedee and I made-up cow jokes to entertain our guys. I’m sure they’ll never forget us, but not in a good way. Thanks to Kathy, we arrived home a few hours late and were grounded for a month.
Maybe things would have been different if we’d learned your cow lines?

It’s a bloody shame we live in a world where a phrase as beautiful as “A cow eats grass” doesn’t grant its user any perks.
Also, I’d say Ukrainian names are right up there with the Russian ones in terms of letter-length, but of course they steal our light as always. Well, they usually shut off our gas, but you catch my drift.

Ha. My apologies man. You’re quite right and I’m sure there are many more countries in the ‘terribly long surname’ club. When I’m REALLY bored one day, maybe I’ll look into that..

By the way, I note that even though your blog is hosted by WordPress, I can’t seem to ‘follow’ as I do with other blogs? What do I need to do to ensure that your shit appears in my reader? I’m not a big fan of email subscriptions.

Bless you Nancy. By the way, I just sent the final, copy edited, checked and double checked (though it’ll probably still have some mistakes!) version of the manuscript to the publishers and your comment WILL be on the back cover.

I studied Spanish for five years at school, and the only phrase I know is que pasa cono. I’ll not write what this means. On another note, I was once told I looked like Hugh Grant. She meant it as a compliment/pick up. Sadly he is about twenty years older than me.

Awwww, love. At least you look like a tan white boy, and you haven’t grown up with a pallor that looks something north of albino, or as one of my friends from college said…”Well, we could always find you in the dark, as long as you were naked.”

And if it makes you feel ANY better…four years of French, and I can only order coffee and baguettes, and tell you that there is a monkey under the table.

Aww, I’m sure you’re not that pasty Megan. And don’t get me wrong, I loved the tanned white boy comment. I just couldn’t believe she came to that conclusion… I asked my friends about it after I’d posted the picture and their response was, “No, it’s definitely you. You just look a lot camper. And possibly like you might need to take a dump.” Charming as usual.

Don’t knock that monkey line. That would’ve been pretty useful to know in India at times. Provided I was at said table with some people who could understand French of course.

‘You most certainly can touch this’ – your catchphrase, dear boy, surely? Excellent piece – if only religion did work on such clear principles as £1=1 result, then I’d be putting £16 into the collection plate and praying very hard about the rest of Leyton Orient’s season. Which very few people will get. A cow eats grass, anyone?

Typical Arsenal fan – a couple of Xmases back myself and another O’s fan were out with an Arsenal chum who moaned, spat and swore because you only got an away draw… at that time we were in the relegation zone after one of our classic ‘let;s lose the first nine games and play catch-up ‘cos that’ll make it fun’ seasons. We looked at him with the disdain usually saved for a spoilt child having a tantrum – we would have given a kidney for an away draw… Still, I suppose it’s all relative, and it’s only a game, innit… Hmm…

Ha. You’re quite right. We are wankers. Though for what it’s worth, I definitely wouldn’t be throwing a tantrum if we got an away draw. And if we could avoid getting our arses served to us tomorrow night against Bayern that would also be quite lovely.

You’re right again though, it is only a game. And I realised that when I started crying when Chelsea knocked us out of the Champions League under Ranieri that maybe I was taking things a little too seriously…

Ha. Quite right Carrie. And like you, I didn’t actually know such a thing existed until my brother threw those two coins into the box. I wrote to the temple and asked for my six pounds back but it’s been over 10 years now so I’m starting to lose hope…